I've Got Nothing


I've got nothing. I've got nothing to show. I've got nothing to describe, to feel, to sensationalise or to break down. Except perhaps for my own brain trying to think of words that are punctually insightful. Although the world is probably on its way down, my eyes are staring towards the limitless sky while I'm simultaneously trying to climb my way to an unforeseeable ceiling. My eyes are drowning in the clouds and in my head I try to distract myself from looking down. There's no time to recover from a fall. It's a matter of right here right now, careless of the possible exhaustion or destruction. As they say, you've got enough time to sleep when you're dead.

I can't seem to shake the word 'busy' from my tail. There's no time to wait, to sit, to contemplate. Which is very unfortunate for a daydreamer like myself. The busy-ness is naturally served with a dosis of self-interest. It's working towards my own, eventual, benefit. Hurdling deadline after deadline can be seen as a futuristic sign of accomplishment. It's at least a sign of moving on, growing up and getting licensed. And who wouldn't want that after all that hard work?


However at this moment I've got nothing. I've got nothing to show. There are spare parts floating through the air that together may create a fully functioning product. And it's at these moments, when the clock is striking terror after every precious minute has passed, when self doubt becomes a crippling torturer ready to hit that last blow to knock you out completely (although it shouldn't be too hard when drool is making it's way down the sides of the keyboard).

I can't recommend trying to work in a turmoil of self doubt. It's just not good for the moral. Instead try to elevate your work not in terms of critique, but in terms of creativity. It's a flow you're trying to ride that can only be ridden if you allow yourself to make mistakes. Not too many, mind you. We don't want to be expelled and ruined by the curse word of laziness while it could be the start of a work of art. It's balance. It's a fine balance between that what you envision, that what you've been told and that what you actually can.


Although the right words are lost in a whirlpool of thoughts, the wrong words are only wrong when not put on a stage with some dramatic faked passion which can be disguised as intellectual enthusiasm. Or naturally when spelled incorrectly. Grammar can be such a pain.

Love,
Dominique

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